


The Kneeling of Jim Moriarty

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Dom John Watson, Dom/sub, Friendship, Kneeling, M/M, Sub Jim Moriarty, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Threesome - M/M/M - ish, Victorian - ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty knelt far too easily at the end of the Abominable Bride, didn't he?<br/>What if Sherlock dreamt something different?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kneeling of Jim Moriarty

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Sherlockian4evr

“Professor, if you wouldn't mind stepping away from my friend, I do believe he finds your attention a shade annoying.”

Moriarty let Holmes go and ignored his smug face. Watson stood to the side his revolver in his hand, it appeared to be aiming at both of them, but they all knew who would be on the receiving end if it came to it. 

“That's not fair. There's two of you!”

“There's always two of us. Don't you read The Strand?”

Watson threw Holmes his hat, he snatched it from the air with ease and slid it on, sniffing slightly. 

“On your knees, Professor.”

Moriarty dropped to his knees with some grumbling, but no actual protest, all the while the detective continued to fiddle with his hat, despite the fact there was a lot of water falling from above and there was no way he'd keep it in any sort of state or dry.

“Hands behind your head.”

Holmes looked down and smiled as Moriarty complied immediately, clearly annoyed with not winning. Again. But compliant all the same. 

“Thank you, John.” He did appear to be genuinely grateful. 

The doctor frowned at his friend. “Since when did you call me John?”

“You'd be surprised.” He smiled, not at all effected by the cascades of water flowing over him. 

“No, I wouldn't.” He smiled slightly, but fidgeted as if remembering where he was. “Time you woke up, Sherlock.” The blank look Holmes gave him was oddly appraising. “I'm a storyteller I know when I'm in one.”

“Of course. Of course you do, John.”

“So what's he like? The other me, in the other place?” 

Holmes didn't even need to ponder it. “Smarter than he looks.”

“Pretty damn smart then.”

“Pretty damn smart,” Holmes repeated. 

“Ugh, why don't you two just elope, for God's sake?” It was the first time Moriarty spoke since he'd knelt, but it only seemed to draw the attention of the other men back to him. 

“Impertinent.” Watson's gun did not waver at all. 

“Offensive.”

“Actually,” Watson lowered the gun now. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Except rather than pace straight towards the kneeling man, he walked past him and rested his hand on Holmes' shoulder. 

The younger man stared at him with calculating eyes.

“What are you expecting, Watson?”

“You to kneel, Holmes.”

Holmes pondered for a moment. “And what do I receive in return for my obedience?”

“Protection from the professor who was defeating you rather easily.”

“I was letting him-”

“No you weren't, Holmes, you were in trouble admit it.”

“I'd rather admit I prefer Sherlock.”

The doctor seemed to consider this. “Well kneel then, Sherlock.” 

“Very well, John.” Holmes' knees hit the rock which sent a jolt right up through him. 

“I much prefer sir.”

Sherlock smirked coyly. “Of course, sir.”

“What about you, Professor? Would you be amenable to some fun before I throw you from the ledge?”

“You realise, Watson, this is all inside his head.”

The doctor smirked. “That I do, Professor. I'm sure the other me would love to hear of this when he finally awakens.”

“I'm sure he wouldn't. John.” Holmes interrupted. 

“I'd thought we'd already discussed this, Sherlock.”

The detective's head moved from watching the other two men to stare at the floor. 

Watson stepped between the two kneeling men and pressed his hand into the top of Holmes' hat, “Or would you prefer Boy?”

The shiver the detective elicited gave Watson his answer. 

“If this is what you dream about, Holmes, how the hell do you sleep?”

“He doesn't,” Moriarty tormented. “I've used his bed. It's extremely comfortable, but I fear that's through lack of use rather than choice.”

“Dear God, it really is like having two of you, Holmes.”

“Don't be too sure, Watson. After all, we've fully established this is in my head.”

“Then you won't mind me doing this then, will you?” He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zipper. “Open up, Boy.”

Despite being in a dream, as Holmes complied, Moriarty tried to stand. Watson grabbed him by the throat. “Oh no, no, Professor, you'd better stick around, dream or not this ledge is mightily small, there's nowhere to go.”

“Small or not, if this is a dream I can imagine a jet and it will take me straight from here.”

“Jet? What is a jet? Holmes said it earlier, umph-” he cut off, Holmes was doing a superb job of suckling on his cock. He snatched the Holmes Hat, as he had named it in one of his stories and threw it from the ledge. He used what was left of the now messed up hair to grip in strong fingers. 

“You can do better than that, Boy.”

Holmes actually purred and grazed his teeth along the surprisingly long length he'd managed to swallow whole. 

“That's enough from you, Holmes,” Watson puffed, he turned and thrust his cock into Moriarty's mouth except, he refused and kept his mouth closed. “Holmes.”

The detective turned, reached down and grasped the criminal's bollocks through his pants. His mouth opened as a consequence and Watson thrust in. 

“That's better.” It was a full minute before he glanced at his friend again. “Are you high, Sherlock?”

Holmes' head snapped up and he met his eyes for a moment. “Don't be an imbecile, Watson, I'm in a dream.”

“That is what concerns me.” He grunted as he pushed his cock into Moriarty's mouth so that it brushed the back of his throat. He ran the tip of his revolver through his hair at the same time. 

“Uh, no, Holmes, stay where you are.”

The detective glanced up at the doctor who seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.

“I don't see why I should. One has nothing to offer when you are busy elsewhere.”

“Because I ordered you to.”

Holmes swallowed with difficulty and looked around at the water they were submerged in, but none of them were bothered. 

He changed the hand in which his revolver was in and aimed it at Holmes. “Hands behind your head.”

“I was under the impression you proclaimed there was always two of us, this seems rather one-sided, Watson.”

Moriarty gagged as the doctor came, his release coating his tongue and the back of his throat. 

The obscene noises of the criminal kneeling beside him made Holmes smirk. The doctor leant down and pressed his hand to the detective's cock. “You have far too many clothes on, Boy.”

“As do you Watson, as do you.”

“So sorry to interrupt this little heart to heart, but-” 

“Shut up.”

“I believe that-” 

The doctor stood up ignoring his friend for a moment and placed a foot on the back of Moriarty. “Good boy, old chap.” He kicked out and Moriarty tumbled over the edge. “Now, Holmes, where was I?”


End file.
